


Center of Attention

by bonzai_bunny



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Bruce Wayne, Creampie, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Felching, Humiliation, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgy, Rimming, Slut Shaming, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-28 23:10:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21400195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonzai_bunny/pseuds/bonzai_bunny
Summary: Bruce never expected Clark to find out about his kink, but it leads to some surprising (and good) results.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Justice League/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 19
Kudos: 367





	Center of Attention

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Vogue Le Magazine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7466274) by [metropolisjournal (TKodami)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TKodami/pseuds/metropolisjournal). 

> Hoo boy, this was supposed to be my offering for kinktober but it got a little away from me. Inspired by the wonderful fic Vogue Le Magazine, which has given me a whole new Bruce-related kink.
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

The thing was, Bruce had never really planned for this particular kink to find its way to Clark. He wasn’t exactly ashamed, per say, but he knew how Clark got when he learned something new about Bruce; he was like a dog with a bone. He would pick and prod until all of the innards of Bruce’s truth were laying out in the floor.

Okay, maybe that wasn't fair. Clark only wanted to bring Bruce happiness and pleasure. And a certain degree of trust was absolutely necessary for their scenes to work and for them to work as a couple. Bruce just didn’t want this particular kink to be exposed. He knew it would make him feel vulnerable in a way he hated. It would make him feel judged. He didn’t know why he thought he could hide anything from Clark; that was, in many ways, a miscalculation on his part. 

What they had been doing was half-way between a full scene and regular sex. Bruce didn’t call Clark “sir” but he did allow himself to be taken apart piece by piece in a way that didn’t happen with some quick fucking. Bruce was lost in the pleasure at that point and he hadn’t even gotten what he wanted the most: Clark’s dick.

Bruce was on his back, on Clark’s chest, while Clark kissed and bit around Bruce’s neck. Clark pulled on Bruce’s nipples or stroked Bruce’s cock at his leisure. Now, Bruce was a very large man, but Clark was almost impossibly large so it was little wonder Bruce felt small encompassed in Clark’s arms like this. Clark would spread Bruce’s thighs and rub his cock against Bruce’s crack and balls, but he wouldn’t do much more than that. It was driving Bruce insane, but he didn’t dare tell Clark to stop.

Then, when Bruce finally had enough to whimper, Clark pushed Bruce’s thighs apart until he was nearly at a split. Bruce could have cried in relief when he felt Clark’s finger, thick and large like the rest of him, press into Bruce’s hole with little resistance.  
“You slicked up for me, B?” Clark asked, honey sweet, deep in his ear. “You must have really wanted it.”

Bruce nodded even as heat traveled to his face, because he had wanted it, he had been starving without it.

Clark ran his finger around the rim and dipped inside while Bruce’s cock jumped at just that little stimulation. A fat bead of precum dribbled down his shaft and Bruce closed his eyes against the wash of pleasure and need inside of him. He was going to seriously embarrass himself if he didn’t calm down.

Clark continued to slowly play with his hole, like he had nothing pressing in the future (even though Bruce could definitely feel how hot and hard Clark was against him), like he had with Bruce’s cock and nipples earlier. Bruce thought he was going to cry by the time Clark pushed a second finger in, which played with his rim and carefully avoided direct pressure against his prostate. His cock was so swollen it hurt and he would have done just about anything for release. What really did it, though, was when Clark brushed his lips against Bruce’s ear and said,

“I love how nice and slutty your hole gets for me.”

And Bruce’s cock surged hard and, abruptly, he was coming in thick stripes along his chest. He lay there, stunned, but he didn’t get much of a chance to recover because Clark was flipping them over and sliding his suddenly slick cock into Bruce in one smooth motion. Whatever lazy patience Clark had had before was gone and he was now fucking like a wild man, like how Bruce loved it. 

“God, Bruce, you can’t just—fuck!” Clark gasped and Bruce wouldn’t get it up again soon, but the nearly violent pleasure was putting him under deeper and deeper. His cock was still soft, but somehow, he came again after a few minutes of rutting. It was less of a firehose and more of a leaky faucet as his cum drooled out just in time for Clark to yell and come himself. 

“Fuck,” Clark cursed, when he pulled out. For someone who didn’t need air, he certainly sounded out of breath, not that Bruce was paying much attention. His head was still floating with pleasure, so much so, that he didn’t sense any ulterior motives when Clark pushed three fingers back in and murmured,

“Your hole is so huge, Bruce.”

And—okay, he_ really _ wasn’t going to get it up again, but his cock did twitch in vague interest. It made him feel filthy, just like the feeling of Clark’s cum dripping out of him. Bruce had thought that was the end of it, but his sexed-up brain clearly didn’t remember how persistent Clark Kent could be.

“How come you’ve never mentioned that?” Clark asked much later. They were in bed together, in Clark’s apartment. The sheets had been changed and Bruce was reading a tablet on his lap, above the covers, where Clark stroked his knee from beneath them. 

“Hmm?”

“The slut thing. Like, you seemed really into that.”

“It’s just never come up,” Bruce lied. Clark looked up at him with a frown, clearly catching the lie, and not for the first time, Bruce wondered his sanity in picking a lover who was an alien lie detector.

“You know you can share anything with me, right?” Clark said very seriously. “Even your kinks? I promise I won’t be disgusted or laugh or anything.”

He said it so sincerely too. That was the thing: Bruce knew that Clark would honor that. He was a saint like that. 

“It’s really nothing, Clark.”

“Bruce.” Clark leveled him with a stare that told Bruce, no, Clark would not be backing down until he got all of the information he needed.

Bruce sighed and admitted, “Yes, I like to be called a slut. No, I’m not particularly proud of it.”

“Why?”

Bruce shifted uncomfortably. “Because it’s not just me being called a slut in the bedroom. I have no problem with that. It’s more…other people’s perceptions that I’m into.”

Clark’s brows pinched together. “So, you’re more interested in other people thinking you’re a slut?”

“Yes.”

“And…being Brucie gives you an outlet for people to make that impression?”

Bruce’s cheeks warmed against his will. Trust Clark to hit the nail on the head at the first try.

“I—yes.”

“So…essentially, you’re embarrassed that your cover gives you sexual gratification.”

“To put it crudely, but yes. It's humiliating but…also arousing.”

Bruce had no idea where the hell this conversation was going, but he certainly wasn’t expecting for Clark to snort with laughter.

“Excuse me,” Bruce said flatly and vaguely offended.

“I’m not laughing at your kink, I swear,” Clark said, eyes brimming with mirth. “That’s perfectly fine. I just think it’s funny you got yourself worked up about this because your big brain is overthinking things as usual.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Oh really.”

Clark sat up and put his chin on Bruce’s shoulder, all smiles. “Yes, because that means, in your mind, you’re somehow compromising the integrity of the mission, or something, but it’s really fine. And I’m glad you get _ some _ pleasure out of being Brucie.” 

“Hm.” He noticed that Clark was still beaming up at him so he asked, “What?”

“So, what gets you going more? People in person talking about you or seeing stuff in the media?”

Bruce swallowed, feeling a rush of warmth just thinking about it. “Ah, media. It’s easy to get caught in compromising positions by the paparazzi and gossip sites are very candid in what they think about me.”

“So, that shot of you not wearing underwear at the Mayor’s ball? Not integral to the mission, I take it.”

“No,” Bruce said with a wry twist of his mouth. He remembered that night well. He chose not to wear underwear but he wasn’t aware of how hot all the attention would get him. His cock was clearly half-hard and very visibly defined in a lot of pictures with him in it. When he got home that night, he had jacked off furiously and had had some good material from what the media thought about that for several days.

Clark smiled, in what was probably more of a smirk, and leaned more into Bruce. “You know, those pictures were the first time I realized I was sexually attracted to you.”

Bruce looked at Clark in surprise and felt heat rushing to his cock, something Clark no doubt noticed and had intended. 

“Really?”

Clark licked his lips at the memory. “Yeah. I remember it; all anyone was talking about in the bullpen the next day was your dick. And all I could think about was getting that thing in my mouth.”

Clark pushed his hand into Bruce’s boxers and stroked his slowly hardening cock. Bruce shuddered and closed his eyes.

“Keep talking.”

Clark did, and Bruce came messily as Clark whispered to him what a dirty little slut he was and how the whole world knew it.

The slut thing came up occasionally in the bedroom, to pleasant results, but Bruce never thought it would go further than that. And why would he? He had no reason to think otherwise. This was, in many ways, also a miscalculation. 

Somehow, Bruce always ended up being dragged to group activities, which was why he was in Oliver Queen's penthouse, sipping a glass of wine on a chaise while everyone else fluttered about in conversation. He was sandwiched between Clark on the chair and Diana sitting on the chair’s arm. They were clearly there as a means to keep him from escaping, but it was unnecessary because he was being good. He was actually talking when conversation was directed towards them instead of sullenly staring. The wine probably helped a lot.

Hal was talking loudly, as usual, and saying,

“Come on, Bar, you're already a forensic scientist, think bigger!”

Barry paused to think, his beer bottle poised in his hand.

“Maybe I could deliver food or something? Start a one-man UberEATS, but internationally.”

Hal nodded approvingly. “Nice, nice, very Kiki's Delivery Service.”

Bruce got up to pour himself another glass. Clark gave him a look but Bruce ignored it. He was far from drunk yet. He deserved another pick-me-up.

“What about you, Spooky?”

Bruce turned to Hal with his eyebrows raised in question.

Hal clarified, “If you weren't in the hero gig, what would you be?”

“A CEO of a multibillion-dollar company,” Bruce said flatly and returned to his seat. The space between Diana and Clark was cozy, but he would never admit that. Hal rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, we know you're rich, stop flexing,” Hal said with a roll of his eyes. “But for real, what would you do if you could do anything non-bat related?”

Bruce opened his mouth to say “take a nap” or to tell Jordan it was none of his business, but what Bruce actually said was,

“Let all of you fuck me.”

The room went dead silent and everyone noticed at once how Bruce's bare arm was brushed against Diana's lasso. Blood drained from Bruce's face and he stood, leaving without a word. He didn't slow down when he heard Clark call after him and only stopped when the other grabbed his arm.

“Let me go Clark,” Bruce said, deathly quiet. His heart was pounding in his ears and his face felt hot. He just wanted to—to get away as far as possible and whatever mediating Clark wanted to do, he was not interested.

“B, wait. You don't have to leave, it's not a big deal.”

Bruce glared at Clark. “It isn't a big deal that I just admitted to my coworkers that I want them have sex with me?”

Clark had the decency to wince. “Okay. Point. But you don't have to leave.”

Clark really didn't understand the crushing humiliation he felt at the moment. Maybe with time his ego would be less bruised but not right now.

“Let. Go.” He growled.

Clark let go, thankfully, and Bruce stormed out of the building without another word. He took a Zeta directly to the cave and buried himself into some old cases so he wouldn’t have to think about how he had just made a fool of himself.

Bruce avoided the League for roughly three months and when he returned, no one dared to mention the party fiasco. He didn’t think the others had forgotten, how could they, but if they were willing to put it behind them, then he was too. Thus, he couldn’t have possibly guessed what Clark had in store when Bruce came home to the manor one evening after a long day at WE.

Clark was on a sofa in the main sitting area, wearing one of the suits that Bruce had gotten him, one of the ones that actually fit him and highlighted how tall and broad he was. Bruce actually paused, brows furrowed, when he saw the other man.

“Did we have a date tonight?” Bruce asked. He had gotten much better at keeping track of those and he could have sworn there was nothing on their schedule for at least a month.

Clark’s smile was as easy as it was devious.

“No, but I have something special for you tonight,” Clark said as he stood from the sofa. He tipped Bruce’s chin so Bruce was looking up into his eyes. 

“Get prepared and put on a fresh suit. I’ll be there when you’re done.”

Bruce felt momentarily weak-kneed, not only because of how good Clark looked but because this meant they were about to do a scene which Bruce was in dire need. He didn’t know how Clark was able to predict his needs so well, but he was eternally grateful. At nothing but Clark’s tone and the promise his tone brought, Bruce felt himself chub up: a Pavlonian response to being under the other’s sway. Clark simply smiled and said,

“Don’t keep me waiting.”

Bruce nodded and set off to his room at a brisk pace. He was very methodical in cleaning himself out and then preparing himself for Clark’s use. Just as Bruce finished tying his tie, the door opened and Clark came in, looking uncharacteristically nervous. Bruce wondered if they were going to start in Bruce’s bedroom or go to their playroom.

Clark shoved his hands in his pockets and had a rueful look when he said, “So, I’m going to preface this by saying that I did this because I thought you’d like it and I didn’t ask because I knew you would never go for it if I did and I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

The anticipation for the scene was immediately sucked out and replaced with suspicion. Bruce narrowed his eyes.

“Clark.”

“Also, I feel like I must iterate that we only do this if you really want to and at any point, you say the word and they’re gone.”

“Clark, who is ‘they’?”

If Bruce hadn’t become furious at Clark’s next words, the guilty expression on Clark’s face might have been funny.

“The Justice League.”

“What!?” Bruce hissed. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

Clark held his hands up placatingly. “Like I said, if you don’t want them here, I’ll tell them to leave, but I think you’ll really like what I’ve got planned.”

Bruce crossed his arms and glared at Clark. “And what, pray tell, do you think I’m going to enjoy being reminded of one of my most humiliating moments?”

Clark moved in closer and put his hands on Bruce’s shoulders, mostly to calm the other down.

“Because it’s not the League that’s going to be in the scene,” Clark explained. “It’s going to be a group of strangers. And it starts with us, with you, sucking my dick in a room at one of your parties.”

Bruce didn’t look impressed. “Sucking your dick, huh?”

“And these people stumble in by accident and you don’t know them, but they know you. You’re Bruce Wayne, Gotham’s Prince, and they watch you suck my cock like it’s your birthright because you’re a greedy little cock slut and now they know it too. And you know they’re going to tell their friends about what they saw and it gets you so hot, babe, you can hardly stand it.”

Bruce couldn’t help the little shiver of arousal that went down his spine because that was exactly the kind of thing he had been talking about when he admitted his kink so long ago. Clark seized the opportunity and moved in closer to run his hands down Bruce’s back.

“And they get hot watching you too, so hot that they start getting off themselves and what kind of host would you be if you didn’t at least help them? Bruce Wayne’s reputation is one of generosity.”

Bruce hated that his cock throbbed at the thought. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when Clark squeezed his ass and Clark went in for the kill.

“But after all that, after they’ve used you for their pleasure, you’ll come back to me and I’ll fuck you in front of all of them, just so they know who you really belong to.”

Bruce made a desperate sounding noise in the back of his throat, born of equal arousal and frustration, and Clark smiled.

“Is that a yes?”

Bruce didn’t pout because he never pouted, but he definitely glared even as he pushed back into the strong hands groping his ass. 

“I hate you.”

Clark chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes. Oh and one more thing before we start.”

He pulled a large black ring out of his pocket and Bruce sucked in an aroused breath when he realized what it was. He stood there as Clark unzipped Bruce’s trousers and pulled down his briefs enough that his cock, still mostly soft, and balls rested on top of the bunched-up fabric.

“I don’t want you to come until I fuck you, got it?” Clark asked as he slid the cool, heavy ring around Bruce’s penis and balls. Bruce nodded and let Clark tuck him back in.

“Remember, you can safe word at any time if you want to stop or want them gone,” Clark said, very seriously. 

“I know,” Bruce huffed, but this was mostly an affect to hide his very real nervousness. He felt jittery and just a touch self-conscious of the thought of other Leaguers seeing him this way. Clark kissed his forehead, which was warm and grounding, and led Bruce out of the bedroom.

“Come on.” 

Bruce was led to their playroom, which had suddenly acquired more places to sit than previously. The other League members were nowhere to be seen but Bruce didn’t focus on this because Clark was sitting down in his big armchair, the one where Bruce often knelt in front of. 

The room itself was unremarkable compared to other guest rooms if you didn’t know where to look. There was a seating area with the armchair and a few additional chairs and loveseats. There was a four-poster canopy bed with a nightstand and various dressers. These all had false bottoms where supplies, from extra lube to rope, were located. There was a wall that, when pushed upon, rotated and revealed a St. Andrews Cross. Under the bed, there was more equipment. Bruce had nosy children and didn’t particularly wish to scar them with his kink.

Anyway, Bruce knelt in front of Clark and shivered when Clark ran fingers through his hair. There was something about the act of kneeling that put Bruce into the right headspace and all else melted when Clark guided his cock into Bruce’s mouth. He wasn’t hard yet but Bruce was keenly aware of how to get him there. 

Bruce pulled back Clark’s foreskin and suckled on the spongy head, getting it nice and wet. He ran his tongue down slit and relished in the thickening length in his hand. Just the feel of the growing weight on his tongue was nice and he was so into it, he was startled when he heard the door open. Bruce tried to turn to look, but Clark was quicker and held his head to keep him focused. He kept sucking. 

Eventually, Clark was fully hard and throbbing and Bruce relaxed his throat to get the massive length at least halfway down before pulling back and sucking more. He continued this for a little while, getting his throat used to the blunt pressure and Bruce heard Barry gasp, “Holy shit!” when he took a deep breath and slowly pushed until Clark was all the way down, until his pubes were tickling Bruce’s face. It wasn’t an easy feat. The Kryptonian was massive and Bruce gagged a little, making a choking noise that made Clark throb and shift his hips with a soft groan. 

Bruce was hard as hell, but that was nothing new.

Bruce continued in a mindless rhythm, taking catalogue of every reaction of Clark’s. Just the taste, weight and girth of the other was enough to get Bruce going, but the quiet gasps, the barely restrained desire to fuck his throat? Bruce was throbbing by the time he felt Clark harden one last time before shooting down his throat. This time, Bruce did gag. Clark came for a long time and Bruce coughed with tears prickling in his eyes when Clark pulled out, cum gushing as he did. Cum pooled in Bruce’s mouth and dribbled out, although he did his best to swallow it all. 

Clark stroked through his hair with a look of obvious pride and said, “I think our audience liked that.”

For the first time, Bruce was allowed to turn around and see who else was in the room and his cock throbbed hard as he took it all in.

Everyone was in various stages of undress or arousal. Arthur was unashamedly stroking his dick and beside him, Zatanna had part of her dress pulled down so she could rub her bare tits. Dinah, on Oliver’s lap, had her skirt pulled up as he slowly stroked through her soaked underwear. Both Hal and Barry had swollen lips and looked kiss drunk with obvious bulges in their suit slacks. Diana looked oddly stoic in a burgundy gown, but Bruce doubted she had been entirely unaffected. The whole room smelled like sex and Bruce reveled in the fact that he was the cause of it all. Diana was the first to lean forward and say in her thick accent,

“I acquire your assistance, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce looked back at Clark for permission and the man nodded. “Don’t keep a lady waiting.”

He crawled the ten or so feet over to her, his cock heavy and confined with each movement. When he was close enough, she lifted the full skirt of her gown and he immediately crawled under. The smell of her arousal was as strong as the heat radiating off of her when he got in close. He licked her mound and groaned. 

The taste was heavenly. He hadn’t had pussy in so long. 

Diana bucked her hips when he languidly licked between her lips. He knew he was on the right track when she locked her legs around his head as he licked her nub at the top. He couldn’t actually see what he was doing, but went on instinct and muscle memory to lap up her slick and run his tongue around and around her clit. 

He vaguely heard Hal complain, “Come on, Di, let us see!” but Bruce was startled when the fabric lifted and he was in the light again. He looked over to see Hal with his cock out, now eyeing him appreciatively and Bruce would go to his grave before admitting that was what got him dripping in his underwear.

Bruce, face hot, focused on Diana again, and continued to play a little more. He pressed his tongue, which was met with a surprising flow of slick, into her cunt. He had no idea that she got this wet and a part of him was pleased to have discovered this. He spread her wetness around until he received a warning tug to his hair.

So Bruce got back to business and focused on her clit again. He lapped at it, sucked on it, which made Diana cry out and the iron grip around his head got stronger. He kept at it, dizzy with arousal, and Diana’s voice got higher and higher until she groaned and liquid gushed against his chin. Her pussy fluttered around his tongue while he cleaned up. 

“Dear Gods,” she muttered as she pulled her dress back down and Bruce licked the sweetness from around his mouth.

“I call dibs next,” Hal said beside her with his blown pupils and his dick in hand. It might have annoyed Bruce typically, but all he felt was desire. 

Hal patted the spot between him and Barry on their sofa. Bruce crawled over to them and felt himself get wetter when Hal asked over him,

“Hey, can we use his ass?”

“Be my guest,” Clark replied as if Bruce wasn’t right there, wasn’t the thing they were discussing. 

“Bar, you wanna fuck him? I’ve been dying to use that mouth since I got here.”

Barry looked at Bruce shyly, which was somewhat undercut by the bulge in his slacks. “Yeah, that’s fine. Come ‘ere.”

Barry pulled Bruce into a surprisingly soft kiss. Barry licked at the crevice of his lips and Bruce allowed the speedster into his mouth until Barry pulled back with a gasp.

“He tastes like Diana,” Barry said with wide eyes and obvious lust.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Hal commented from behind him.

Barry dove into kiss again, Bruce could have guessed that the speedster would be into kissing, while Hal tugged on Bruce’s suit jacket. 

“Come on, Wayne,” Hal muttered, suddenly close against Bruce’s ear. “Let’s get you out of this.”

Bruce allowed Hal to divest him of his suit jacket and pulled his shirt out of his slacks. Next went Bruce’s belt and Bruce groaned into Barry’s mouth, surprised, when Hal cupped his straining cock through his trousers. He could hear the grin in Hal’s voice when he asked,

“You love all of this, don’t you?” 

Bruce wasn’t given much of an opportunity to answer, however, because his trousers and underwear were shucked down in a quick motion that was near torture to Bruce’s sensitive dick. He gasped and Barry pulled away. 

“Hands and knees,” Barry said, eyeing Bruce thoughtfully. “Face Hal.”

Bruce did his best to obey, as awkward as it was with his pants around his knees. He turned around and his gut flipped as he was met face to face with Hal’s dick. It was an average dick by all means, maybe on the thicker side, but Bruce opened his mouth for it eagerly. Hal smirked and, dick in hand, rubbed the slick head around Bruce’s open, swollen lips as Bruce tried his best to follow, like a dog after a treat. 

“Fuck,” Hal cursed as he finally stayed still long enough for Bruce to lick his slit. “I always knew you were a slut, but I never imagined this.”

Heat rushed through Bruce at once of both humiliation and arousal. He made a little noise in the back of his throat because he needed more. He wouldn’t be satisfied until everyone had had their way with him like the dirty whore he was. 

Bruce groaned when Hal pushed his dick all the way in. Bruce was ready for it, but he liked how the other didn’t take time for Bruce’s comfort. Hal, hands tight against Bruce’s head, just shoved his dick in until Bruce’s nose bumped against his pubic bone. He breathed in the musky scent and felt himself drip where his dick was confined. He liked how Hal twitched down his throat with a whispered,

“Fuck,” before Hal pulled out and pushed in again. Hal worked up a rhythm, not as tirelessly as Clark could, but he thrust in and out with wild abandon. Hal’s balls smacked against his chin as he continued to fuck Bruce’s throat for all it was worth. Bruce was perfectly content for this to happen and it was sufficiently distracting enough that he hardly noticed when Barry’s hands were on his ass.

Bruce definitely noticed, however, when his cheeks were pulled apart and something wet and hot pressed against his hole. Out of everything that could have happened, he was certainly not expecting that.

Bruce whined, unashamedly, even as Hal continued to piston down his throat. Barry licked again and grew bolder by the second. His tongue breached the rim and Bruce’s asshole clenched down wanting more, more, more. Like torture, Barry pressed in deeper and deeper and just when Bruce thought his dick couldn’t get any harder, Barry’s tongue vibrated and Bruce let out a muffled sob around Hal’s cock. This was something Clark did on occasion so he wasn’t totally unused to it, but it was the most sexual stimulation he could receive without actually coming. Bruce would give anything to get a hand around his cock, but he wasn’t allowed to come, not until Clark, and he still had four more people to attend to. 

The closer Hal got, the more he babbled nonsense, the more he talked about what a beautiful mouth Bruce had. It was only a little surprising when Hal pulled back at the last second to shoot his load over Bruce’s face. Bruce closed his eyes in time, thankfully, and Hal kept stroking through his own orgasm. 

“Shit, that was good,” Hal muttered when he finished. Warm cum dripped down Bruce’s forehead, nose and chin and he felt oddly embarrassed about how much it turned him on. He didn’t think he was particularly into cum marking but. Well, the nearly painful throb Bruce felt in his cock every time he focused on the cum sliding down his face didn’t lie.

“Next time, I’m gonna come on your tits,” Hal promised and Bruce shut his eyes again with a shudder. That sounded unbelievably good. 

Barry pulled away--Bruce’s hole felt drenched--and Bruce wasn’t able to catalogue much about that because Barry was pushing in finally. Bruce wasn’t one to cry about dick, but with how empty his hole felt since Barry started eating him out, it felt like he had reached the promised land when Barry was fully seated inside him.

“How’s he feel?” This was Clark who asked from across the room. He looked regal and handsome in the armchair with only his curl come loose from his slicked back hair, but Clark’s dick was fully hard. It gave Bruce a tiny thrill to know he had turned on Clark that much already.

“Good,” Barry groaned from behind Bruce, inside of him. “So fucking good.”

“I’m glad,” Clark said, and he sounded it too. Like he had just sold a piece of merchandise and wanted the customer to be satisfied. Fuck. 

Barry didn’t wait any longer. He started thrusting in these quick rabbit thrusts that hit just shy of where Bruce needed them to. He grit his teeth and tried to push back to get Barry to go deeper but the iron grip on his hips didn’t allow him. Sometimes, Bruce really hated Metas, particularly when they were stronger than him and wouldn’t fuck him as hard as he wanted. It just highlighted how Bruce was here for their pleasure and not the other way around. 

Bruce made another undignified noise, even as Hal looked down on him with amused eyes and tugged on his hair to make Bruce face Hal. 

“I think he wants to get fucked harder, Bar.”

“You think so?” Barry grunted, not changing his rhythm in the slightest. “He’s going to have to wait for someone else then.”

Bruce groaned and shut his eyes, awash with frustration. He didn’t think Barry would be like this, but it was just another reminder that he was a tool to be used and nothing more.

Barry continued at that pace for a minute more before he faltered. He vibrated, which was a surprising jolt to Bruce, and he thrust in two more times before he doubled over and came with a low groan. Like Clark, Barry also seemed to come for a long time. When he finally pulled out, Bruce could feel some cum drip out too and he clenched down on it, eager for more.

“Who’s next?” Barry asked when he came down from his orgasm. Bruce didn’t see what the commotion that went on behind him was, because Hal was still holding his hair, but he heard Arthur say,

“You two go ahead, I insist.”

The next thing Bruce knew, Hal and Barry were getting up and Dinah and Oliver were taking their places. He sat up to meet Dinah as she reached for him and gave a pleased hum when she kissed him. 

“Does your jaw hurt yet?” She asked.

“No,” he said, even though that wasn’t strictly true. It was sore, just like his swollen lips, but it registered fairly lowly on his pain scale. 

Dinah smiled a smile that made Bruce feel like he was about to be devoured. She thumbed up some of the drying cum on his chin and pressed it into his awaiting mouth. When he licked her thumb, her grin got even wider. 

"Good,” she announced. “I’m going to sit on your face,” which sounded wonderful.

“Gonna have to get on your back,” Oliver said, although it sounded more like a command than a suggestion. Dinah stood and slid her panties down--black and lace like her dress--while Bruce laid his head where she had just been sitting. Oliver tugged off Bruce’s underwear and trousers, leaving him only in his socks and Bruce’s cock jutted up obscenely, nearly purple it was so hard, from the bottom of his dress shirt. Dinah put her soaked panties over top of his face so he could smell and taste her. His cock jerked hard and he moaned. She asked, unnecessarily,

“You like that?”

“I’m pretty sure he does,” Oliver said with obvious amusement. Bruce’s dick was dripping steadily now and he was so close to the edge, it hurt. 

Dinah crawled back onto the couch and swung her leg over his head so her thighs bracketed him. She pulled off her panties long enough for him to get a gulp of air before she sunk her wet folds onto his awaiting mouth. He licked dutifully and enthusiastically as she ground down from his nose to his chin. He dug into her thighs and held on. Bruce’s whole body felt hot from it; he felt like he was going to burn alive. 

Still this was nothing compared to when Bruce felt Oliver lift Bruce’s legs over his shoulders and the archer slid his cock in. Bruce moaned, or he tried to, around Dinah’s pussy. He shuddered when Oliver pulled out and pushed back in, deep, like Bruce had craved.

“Still good?” Clark asked after a few thrusts.

“Messy,” Oliver grunted, “but good.”

Bruce felt the mess Barry had made, and he wasn’t sure if he had ever been so embarrassed and so turned on in his entire life. He groaned again, delirious, and Dinah gasped above him. He tried to focus on her, on keeping a good rhythm, but it was hard. He could scarcely breathe between the impact of Oliver fucking him and the weight on his face.

He licked blindly as Dinah ground down and took her pleasure. Her slick was dripping down his chin, adding to the mess of fluids that were already there. She kept relaxing and clenching her thighs around Bruce’s head when she continued and built up a steady rhythm. Her gasps were soft, but present, when Bruce did something she liked. 

He tried his best not to focus on the warmth surging in his balls and gut, which grew hotter with each hard thrust from Oliver. Instead he tried to focus on the warmth on his face.

Bruce was trembling by the time Dinah started moaning openly, and he was almost disappointed when she tensed up tight for several seconds and then shuddered in her orgasm. Disappointed because now there was nothing to distract him from Oliver fucking him, from his prostate being hit and shooting pleasure straight up his spine.

Dinah swung off of his face and kissed his cheek. She sat down in the space above him and ran her fingers through Bruce’s hair, making him shiver. He was beginning to sweat from being so hot, from Oliver fucking him so vigorously. 

Thankfully, Oliver was close. He had groaned low and deep when Dinah came and now his thrusts grew sloppy. He lasted a few minutes longer before squeezing bruises into Bruce’s hips and stilling as he came deep inside Bruce. Bruce felt an aroused thrum through him, which only grew stronger when Oliver pulled out and he was forced to recognize how sloppy his hole was getting. Clark wasn’t going to need any lube or prep at all, he would just slide in like butter.

“Who’s next?” Dinah asked at Zatanna and Arthur. She had yet to move from her position behind Bruce’s head.

Zatanna, who had the top of her dress below her bare breasts, stepped up. She looked incredible, as she always did. She undid the side zipper on her dress and let the fabric fall to the floor, leaving her standing there unashamedly naked. Bruce sucked in an aroused breath. He was pretty sure everyone else in the room did too.

“She’s fucking hot, isn’t she?” Dinah whispered in his ear as Zatanna strutted forward, ever the show woman. 

“Yeah.” Bruce agreed

“Goddamn,” Oliver added before getting out of the way and sitting on the arm of the couch.

Zatanna straddled his waist and he wondered if she was going to sit on his face like Dinah did. She surprised him by saying,

“Play with my tits, Brucie.”

He did so, gladly, and cupped her full breasts. He ran his thumbs over her dusty areolas and nipples and she sighed into his touch. He massaged them with as much dedication as he had given the other people in the room and he didn’t think much of Zatanna reaching back to play with her pussy. It was just one arousing thing out of many. He noticed that her nipples were particularly sensitive and her mouth fell open every time he tugged on them. Emboldened, Bruce sat up and latched his mouth onto a nipple, while he continued his rubbing, and she groaned openly. 

“Fuck,” she gasped and pushed another finger into her pussy.

Bruce was caught up in what he was doing and he jolted when he felt a touch to his cock. Zatanna pulled back.

“What are you—?”

She moved back and held his cock still. Bruce only had a moment to register what was happening before she sunk down on him and Bruce knocked his head back with a loud cry. He knew without a doubt that if he hadn’t had the cock ring on, he would have come. It was still a real risk and he begged,

“Wait, don’t move!” so he wouldn’t come immediately when she did.

She smirked at him, but acquiesced. This, however, didn’t stop her from rubbing her swollen clit as she made direct eye contact with him and Bruce threw an arm over his face with a groan. She laughed at him without any malice.

“How’s his cock?” Clark asked while they waited.

“Pretty good,” Zatanna said as she arched into her own fingers. “Nice and thick. I guess the tabloids don’t lie.”

Bruce bucked his hips involuntarily and she grinned down at him.

“Maybe I’ll take a ride next time,” Dinah said, like she was remarking on what brand she should have bought at the grocery store. 

“See if his dick is worth all the fuss.”

Bruce bucked his hips again and knew they were doing this on purpose, but he didn’t begrudge them of it.

After three minutes passed, he grit out,

“Alright you--you can go.”

Zatanna planted her hands on Bruce’s chest and lifted up—he whimpered—and thrust back down with equal force. He wasn’t as close to orgasm as he had been, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this up for a long time. All he could do was hold on and let it happen.

Zatanna worked up a rhythm, slamming down on his hips with great enthusiasm. She looked fantastic. Her hair was in her eyes and she kept biting her lip when his dick hit something she liked. Her pussy was a hot, wet vice on his cock and he could barely contain his reaction. 

At some point, Arthur got up and watched her ride him, but Bruce didn’t really notice until Zatanna gasped,

“A-Arthur, your fingers!”

And Arthur reached between them to rub Zatanna’s swollen clit while she kept her hands firmly planted on Bruce’s chest for balance. It didn’t take long after that; her cunt tightened to an almost painful level and she shuddered hard with a loud yell. She stayed on him for a moment, to get her bearings straight, and Bruce bit off a groan at how shiny and wet his cock was slick when she pulled off. It was a wonder his dick hadn’t fallen off yet, with how it felt. 

After Zatanna had gotten back onto her feet, wobbly and flushed, Arthur patted Bruce’s ankle and said,

“Turn over, rich boy.”

Normally, Bruce’s hackles would have risen, but he complied and let himself be maneuvered onto his hands and knees. He sucked in a breath when he felt two thick fingers push into his hole with little warning.

“Quite sloppy back here,” Arthur mused and Bruce bit his lip as his hole twitched. 

“But I’ll make do.”

Arthur put one hand on Bruce’s hip and used the other to guide his cock in. He wasn’t given any chance to adjust before Arthur pulled out and slammed back in, which set the pace for their fucking. It was nearly as hard as Clark fucked him, violent and with little care and Bruce fucking loved it. 

He moaned openly as Arthur pushed his face down into the cushion and took what he wanted from Bruce. It was the kind of thing that pushed him under and made him lose track of time. It hurt, but that didn’t matter. Arthur was big and hot and he would hit Bruce’s prostate on occasion and it made his entire body jolt. He couldn’t believe he had been fucked by six people and that it wasn’t over. 

Arthur slapped Bruce’s thigh, pulling him deeper into his head, and Bruce groaned. His dick felt like it was going to explode and his balls hurt more than he could remember outside of an injury. He kept thinking all he had to do was last this one more time before he’d be allowed to come. He had come close several times but it still wasn’t a sure thing. Arthur didn’t do anything cruel like wrap his hand around Bruce’s cock, but he did hit Bruce’s prostate more than strictly necessary. It made Bruce whine and babble when he felt like he was too close to the edge and Arthur, thankfully, eased off.

It took a few minutes before Arthur stilled and held Bruce tight against his pelvis. Bruce was still high strung enough, still aroused enough, that he was disappointed when the Atlantean pulled out. The skin around his asshole hurt, but Bruce hardly cared. He needed more.

There was a moment of quiet in Bruce’s mind. Bruce looked up from where his head had been and saw that Oliver was now jacking Barry off and Diana had her legs wrapped around Hal’s head as he went down on her. Bruce’s cock gave an aroused twitch and Arthur pet the back of his head, where his hair was soaked with sweat.

“I think it’s my turn now.” 

Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at Clark who stood and commanded everyone’s attention. Bruce’s heart sped up in anticipation, something he was sure Clark noticed, and he shut his eyes briefly when Clark asked,

“Did everyone enjoy Bruce?”

There were murmurs of satisfaction around the room and Bruce’s cock surged with arousal. 

Bruce thought that Clark was just going to take Arthur’s spot on the couch--which would absolutely need to be cleaned--but Clark got Bruce to his feet. He was a little wobbly from all of the kneeling and being fucked so Clark’s hand held him steady as Clark walked him over to their bed. Bruce swallowed and his heart thudded as he realized what that meant.

“Hands and knees, Bruce, facing them,” Clark ordered and Bruce obeyed. The soft cushion and sheets were a balm to Bruce’s frankly worn out knees. He could lurk while squatting for hours if he needed to, but something about the endorphins of the afternoon made everything a little more tender.

It didn’t escape Bruce how he was now more on display than ever. It didn’t deter his arousal in the least.

Clark rubbed Bruce’s back and Bruce groaned against the touch. Every bit of him felt sensitive and hot. He tried not to moan when Clark pressed his thumb against his swollen asshole because of how on display he was, but the embarrassment just made him wetter. Somehow, it was different when they were all in the seating area. That was more intimate and reciprocal. Now, he was on show and all the eyes on him made him hot.

It felt like heaven when Clark removed the cock ring. Bruce almost choked out a sob, it was so much. He blinked away the tears in his eyes, at the relief, and bit his lip when Clark teased the rim of his anus. He needed—he needed to be full.

Bruce was surprised when he felt hot breath against his hole and even more surprised at the warm tongue that licked up everything that had transpired inside of him. 

“God,” he choked out while Clark kept licking. He felt feverish, like he was going to pop soon, and that tongue felt so good but so teasing. Clark’s tongue was wet against him, fucking his gape with ease and he trembled, his cock leaked steadily, and it took him by surprise when Clark pressed a finger against that sensitive spot on his taint and Bruce came. He came hard. He came harder than he had possibly ever come before and Clark was gracious enough to stroke his cock and lick him through it. 

Bruce came in waves; every time he thought he was done, a squeeze to his dick would send him tumbling and shooting out more cum. It knocked the breath out of him and made his arms and legs feel like jelly. 

He was still dazed when Clark finally slid into him. The initial penetration was _ wet _and Bruce’s ears burned at the squelching noise from Clark’s saliva and the cum that was still inside of him. His cock gave a little twitch, not ready to come back to life quite so soon. 

When Clark was finally seated inside of Bruce, he pulled out and pushed back in, in one smooth motion. He slowly worked up a rhythm and casually brushed up against Bruce’s prostate with those deep, slow thrusts that drew Bruce wild. By the time he was fucking Bruce, fucking him hard in a way that told him Clark was done playing around, Bruce was improbably hard again. The sound of skin slapping against skin was loud in the room and Bruce wasn’t quite able to forget that he had an audience. Clark picked up on that and said,

“Look at them looking at you. Bet they’re going to tell all of their friends what a whore you are.”

Bruce whimpered and bucked into Clark’s grasp when Clark wrapped a hand around Bruce’s sensitive cock.

“You’ve had three dicks in you and your hole is still begging for more.”

Bruce shut his eyes and tried his best not to thrust into Clark’s hand. The other’s voice was hot in his ear and he could feel the burning stares of their audience. It made him start to precum.

“I want to hear you say it: ‘You’re a whore with a slutty hole.’”

Bruce’s throat felt dryer than ever and he had to swallow a few times before gasping, “I’m a whore with a slutty hole.”

His cock twitched hard in Clark’s hand. Clark pounded on his prostate like a machine and pleasure shot up his spine like liquid ecstasy. He didn’t think he would last much longer. He didn’t think he could last much longer. Each stroke was like an ember to kindling.

“Open your eyes, Bruce,” Clark ordered and Bruce did. Everyone had stopped fucking to watch the show on the bed. Everyone could see Clark pounding him and loving it, just like Clark had said. It was a combination of that, Clark hitting his prostate with frightening accuracy, and the hand squeezing his cock that sent Bruce off like a rocket for the second time. Only this time, because of the endorphins, the exhaustion, and the pleasure, he blacked out. 

When Bruce woke up, he was snuggly under covers with his head lying on Clark’s bare chest. Clearly sensing the change in his heart rate, Clark looked down and said,

“Good morning,” with far too cherry of a voice.

Bruce sat up with alarm and asked, “Christ, how long was I out?”

“Only for a minute, but you were so out of it, you just fell asleep afterwards and I didn’t want to wake you.”

Bruce sighed, rubbing his chin, and he admitted, “I don’t remember waking up.”

Clark made a noise of agreement behind him. “That doesn’t surprise me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sub drop that hard.”

“And how was it at the end?” 

“Really good. Everyone said they had a great time and wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

Bruce felt his face heat up at the thought, but he tried to focus on more immediate problems.

“Did you swear them to secrecy?”

“Of course,” Clark said easily. “Before we even started, I made sure everyone understood that what happened in the playroom, stayed there.”

That reminded Bruce of his earlier gripe and he twisted around to slap Clark on the shoulder as hard as he could without harming himself.

“You ass! Don’t you _dare_ spring something up on me like that again!”

Clark held up his hands defensively and he had the decency to at least look contrite. “I know, I know! It won’t happen again. Did you enjoy it at least?”

Bruce sighed and leaned back into Clark’s embrace. The other was warm and soothing in a way Bruce didn't often admit. 

“It was okay,” Bruce lied. Clark laughed into his hair and kissed the top of his head.

“I’m glad," Clark said. "I’ve already got ideas for the next one.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just a general disclaimer that you should definitely not spring a scene on a partner who isn't prepared and that this is just porn, not in anyway good BDSM etiquette.
> 
> Also, I worked really hard on this so comments would appreciated


End file.
